


Event Horizon

by sharkduck



Series: Superposition Incognito [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Gen, Historical Accuracy, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, Human & Country Names Used, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 21:24:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9091351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkduck/pseuds/sharkduck
Summary: Event horizon:e·vent ho·ri·zon | noun
A theoretical boundary beyond which no light or radiation can escape.
A point of no return.





	

The color orange is beautiful, when it's the only other color you can see besides black.

This is the one thought that crosses Antonio's mind as he stares at the charred remains of the savage city they had marched on, the fire from where they had torched the homes and storerooms still burning and sending up columns of ash, polluting the evening sky with charcoal smoke. Even the gore on the ground seems burnt beyond recognition, the fading light muting the colors around him, except for the brilliant orange of a few still-raging bonfires. It's beautiful, in a sick way, the contrast, and he finds himself mesmerized, his feet moving beyond his control; maybe it's the shock. He doesn't stop to think about it, or care.

Antonio's armor clatters, too loud as he moves through the streets, a pale shadow splattered with flecks of blood. Somewhere nearby there's screaming, a woman and her children being dragged from their home. Undoubtedly, they'll be shackled and carted over the ocean for the return trip -- most of them will die, but the few that do survive will be sold as pretty trinkets to be ogled, treated as objects. (somewhere in the back of his mind, Antonio screams at himself to stop, to help, because he knows how that feels, knows how painful it is to be treated as a _thing_ and not a human; and yet another, louder part of him reasons that there's nothing he can do anyway. He keeps moving, and the faded scars from centuries ago burn a little)

Somehow he manages to make his way to the massive stone pyramid in the center of the city, the only landmark he can make out through the haze. His foot hits something heavy and soft, and when he looks down he's almost surprised to see the body of a young man, barely 15. His head is split open, and Antonio can see from his open mouth that half his tongue is missing; he must have bitten it when he hit the ground. Antonio looks around, and sees more bodies.

They'd thrown themselves from the temple, along with the busted remains of an idol of their pagan god, and there are colorful shards of jade scattered among the corpses. He could reach down and gather up as much as he could, get rich, but what good would that do him?

 Antonio's skin turns hot with rage.

They were _cowards_. All of them. Savages. _Heathens_ that couldn't face their judgement day.

Antonio grits his teeth and kicks the head of the carcass at his feet; the heavy iron of Antonio's sabaton causes his -- _it's_ \-- nose to break with a sickening crunch, and knocks out a few teeth. It's _satisfying,_ and something in him wants to do it again.

Later that night he beats one of the servants badly enough that their face is unrecognizable, just because he can, and he wants to, and whatever was holding his seams together before has snapped. Antonio rationalizes that it was _their_ fault, for delighting in being a godless barbarian, their face turned away from God's light, just like the Moors and Visgoths and Alans and Vandals before them. (by this point, his old scars have stopped burning, because the part of him that wants him to stay himself is dead; it'll stay that way until years in the future, when his family begins to leave him)

As the other servants cart the body away, leaving a trail of red droplets behind them, Antonio finds himself smiling. The idea makes him sick, deep down; he represses the urge to vomit, and a week later he leads another charge, massacres another village, coats himself in more blood, and convinces himself that he is righteous and this is justified, that they are bringing The Lord to these obscene and idolatrous pagans, that he is a holy sword of God.

Time passes.

Antonio returns home a changed man.


End file.
